


Misstep

by Missing_Intestines_18



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Drug Addiction, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-26 15:03:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3855022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missing_Intestines_18/pseuds/Missing_Intestines_18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scout's addiction pushes him to do things he never thought he'd do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Misstep

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, been sitting on this one for a little over a year and a half.
> 
> Along with Former Life, this was a plot I was particularly proud of. I did quite a bit of research and I'm pretty happy with it. I think I have the whole thing planned out, but hopefully I won't abandon it :/
> 
> I'm so fucking hungry. It's almost 5am and all I ever eat up here is fruit. May get Chipotle tomorrow if reselling my numerous text books yields some bank. I'm so glad I'm going home Saturday.
> 
> Comments are almost as good as Chipotle! Please feed me!!

One misstep. That’s all it took.

It was a shock to the Scout, normally so surefooted on the battlefield, that he would trip and injure himself. He wasn’t even running when it happened.

“Broken leg and a concussion,” the Medic sighed, consulting the x-rays before him. “Mein Gott, Scout, you really did a number…”

Scout jittered on the examination table, groaning. “C’mon, doc, I don’t need ya to lecture me, this really fuckin’ hurts!”

His tumble down the stairs had snapped his right fibula and cracked a couple ribs, as well as bumping his head hard enough to potentially do some damage. The Engineer had found the young man at the foot of the stairs, unconscious from the pain, and brought him straight to Medic. The Texan didn’t leave until Scout opened his eyes.

Looking down at his leg made Scout nauseous. A piece of bone pushed against his skin, making a bump. Hours ago, the Medic had injected him with something that significantly dulled the pain, but the waves were returning.

“What’s the hold up?” Scout was growing impatient. “Just hit me with the Medigun, and I’ll be off.”

“Ve are not in a battle, Scout. Zhere are restrictions,” Medic said tiredly. “I can use it, but zhe anesthesia it uses isn’t cheap and is only for battles, so it vouldn’t be painless…”

“I don’t care, I just wanna get outta here. Doctor’s offices give me the creeps.”     

A small smile pulled at Medic’s lips. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I can take it!”

“As you vish.”

\--

The azure beam licked like fire.

It flowed from the mounted Medigun in a misleadingly beautiful aurora-like stream, enveloping Scout’s bare, afflicted leg.

Scout had never really had the chance to witness the actual healing process in action, as all his Medigun interactions took place on in battle. He watched in mixed amazement and horror as his bones rearranged themselves under the skin, then bit down hard on his arm to keep from screaming as they began fusing together. Tears ran down his face, and his knuckles stood out white against his skin. In a fleeting moment of clarity, he was glad Medic had strapped down his lower body.

And when he looked to the Medic, he saw that he had a dreamy glaze to his eyes as he gazed at the rippling skin of Scout’s calf.

After nearly five minutes of pain ( _worse than dying,_ Scout decided) and a little attention to his pounding head, Medic grabbed Scout’s hand, healed the fresh bite marks on his arm, and switched off the Medigun. He patted Scout’s newly assembled leg.

“Ah, zhe vonders of modern medicine,” he muttered fondly, smiling. He looked up at Scout. “How are you feeling?”

Scout opened his mouth in an attempt to reply to the doctor, but then he swung to the side and vomited into a tactfully placed bucket. He was shaking violently. Residual heat radiated from his fibula, and every heartbeat sent a throb of agony shooting down his leg.

He tried speaking again. “Ahhhumm… m-m-make it s-stop hurting!” he demanded in a voice he wished was stronger. He was still weeping.

“Hmmm…” Medic tapped his lip thoughtfully, staring up into the rafters. Archimedes stared back. “I zhink I might have somzhing zhat vill help…”

 “Then f-fucking give it to me!”

Medic tutted. “So impatient…”

His knees popped as he stood from his stool, and he strolled leisurely to his medicine pantry while Scout fought back curses through clenched teeth.

The walls of the small pantry were lined with shelves stocked with bottles of pills and vials of liquids and boxes of powders. Medic ran a long finger along the peeling labels stuck to the edge of the shelf, his own large handwriting scrawled onto the tape to make it easier on his failing eyes. He hummed to himself as the young Bostonian in the other room groaned in agony.

“Aha!” He plucked a white bottle off a low shelf and brought it back to Scout, who immediately reached out and grabbed for it.

Medic slapped his hand away. “Really, Scout, rudeness is very unbecoming,” he scolded. “I need to tell you about zhis medication so you can use it safely.”

“Huh-huh-huh-hurry _uuuup_ ,” the boy whined.

The Doctor sighed. “Yes, yes… Zhis”—he shook the bottle—“is oxymorphone. It should do the trick and allow you to get some sleep tonight.” He turned and picked up a small container, then transferred two tablets from one bottle to the other. He turned back to his patient. “I’m giving you two, one for now and one for tomorrow morning. It is imperative you only take _one_ at a time. Zhey may take a few minutes to start vorking, but you must vait it out. Do you understand?”

There was sweat beading on Scout’s forehead. “G-got it,” he mumbled, eyeing his prescription anxiously.

“Good.” Medic smiled and handed him the bottle. The pills rattled in their prison as Scout’s hand trembled. “You’re free to go.”

Scout eased himself onto his feet, but the shaking caused him to crumple to the ground. Medic rolled his eyes and yanked him back up. “Come on…”

Slowly, they made their way to Scout’s room, the Bostonian leaning heavily on the older man. Scout was itching to take the oxymorphone. His leg was still burning and each step brought another shock of pain that made him wince. He was grateful his head was faring better.

“Here you are,” Medic said when they finally reached the messy room. He dropped Scout on his unmade bed and the boy had to bite back a scream. “So. Take one and come see me in zhe morning. You may vant to keep a bucket nearby, nausea is common. Gute Nacht!”

Medic turned on his heel and strode cheerfully out the door, leaving Scout struggling to first to unclench the fist that held the bottle and then to open it. And when he finally managed to uncap it and attempted to shake one out onto his hand, a convulsion sent both tablets flying to the floor.

“F-fuu _uuuck_ ,” he groaned, dropping to his knees and scrabbling to retrieve the pills and, upon grabbing one, stuffed it in his mouth, dust and all. He found a half-empty can of Bonk! next to his bed and greedily gulped it down, then found the other pill and returned it to the bottle.

He flopped on the floor, tears beginning to trickle from his eyes. He wished he was dead, longed for a grenade to come bouncing through his door and paint his walls and ceiling and floor red so Respawn would set him right again, but the next battle was two days away.

The fluorescent light above bore into Scout’s eyes and his vision was swimming. He was cold and hot at the same time and his breath came labored from his mouth. He lay there weeping for what felt like eons.

“S-s-s’not fucking w- _working…_ ” he mumbled to himself. The fucking Doc _lied_ to him. It wasn’t enough.

Agonizingly, he rolled to the side and groped for the bottle blindly, opened it, and swallowed the remaining pill dry, and rolled back.

He felt pathetic. Defeated. His stomach roiled and his calf was on fire and he turned his head and vomited pure acid onto the already-shitty carpet. And there he lay for several more minutes.

And then…

It started slow, beginning from his chest and creeping outward to the rest of his body. It was a gentle warmth and pleasant tingling, and suddenly everything was okay. He felt like he was being covered with an extraordinarily soft blanket, like he had just finished in the most beautiful girl in the world. His body went limp and his head lolled to the side and a lazy smile twisted his mouth.

“Ohhhhh gawd…” His words tumbled from his lips in a slurred mess. He giggled and closed his eyes.

_Thanks, Doc…_


End file.
